“Okay. Ground rules,” I said, and locked gazes with Eli. “I pee alone and I shower alone. Some things need to remain a mystery, and those are two I firmly believe in.”
“Given that you probably used to wear . . . velvet bloomers, lace, high heels, and a ponytail, yeah—I guess you have changed a little,” I said, and gave a slight smile in hopes of easing the depressing mood.Eli actually grinned. “That look was hot back then.” He held his arms out. “Velvet coat with tails to match. Yeah, ruffles, too. I was badass.”
“Poe, you wiener, get your ass over here!"
"Shut Up! I ain't a wiener!"
Broken, adolescent male laughter echoed through the night air, and if I hadn't been so damned mad, I'd have laughed too. Something about hearing a group of idiotic pubescent fifteen-year-old boys say wiener just cracked me up.”
“Mine,” he whispered against my mouth. He kissed me again. “You are mine.”
In the shadows I stared into the eyes of a vampire, grazed his mouth with my finger. “No, you‟re mine.”
“My Gullah grandfather is bringing a bag of dust to a vampire war. I feel better.”
“Like I said - I wasn't stupid. Rough around the edges maybe, definitely a little perverted at times, but never stupid. I was a survivor. I'd damn well survive this.”
“Good thing no one but the dead would see my hiniesca (high-nee-sca is a juvenile, made-up word for ass, and I use it frequently)”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, which again irritated me because we all know what whatever really meant. Eff you.”
“I thought I could bring you out here, talk to you, comfort you,” he said, his voice strained. He leaned closer. “But all I can think of is being inside of you.” He kissed me, dragged his lips
across my jaw, then back. “And staying inside of you,” he whispered against my lips. “I‟m comforted, so let‟s go,”
“I have had it up to here with my wedding," I said. "The other day Andrea tried to explain to me that apparently I am supposed to have a new thing, an old thing, a blue thing, and something stolen."
"Borrowed, Kate," Barabas murmured.
"Who the hell even makes up those rules?”
“Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains on the other. It undergoes continual changes; it is barbarous, it is civilized, it is christianized, it is rich, it is scientific; but this change is not amelioration. For every thing that is given, something is taken.”
“My goddess! My queen!'
'Oh, no, no, no!'
He raised his head, smiling a little crookedly down at her. 'Do you dislike to hear yourself called so? There is nothing I would not do to please you, but you cannot help but be my goddess! You have been so these seven years!'
'Only a goddess could dislike it! You see by that how wretchedly short of the mark I fall. I have a little honesty - enough to tell you *now* that you must not worship me.'
He only laughed, and kissed her again. She protested no more, too much a woman not to be deeply moved by such idolatry, and awed by the constancy which, though it might have been to a false image, could not be doubted.”
“No screen?" She nudged him away, scanned the walls. "Seriously? What kind of place is this?"
"The sort where people use bedrooms for sex and sleep, which is exactly waht I have in mind." To prove it, he tumbled her onto the bed.
It squeaked.
"What is that? Did you hear that? Is there a farm animal in here?"
"I'm fairly certain they keep those outside. It's the bed." He tugged her shirt over her head.
Testing, she lifted her hips, let them fall. "Oh, for God's sake. We can't do this on a talking bed. Everybody in the house will know what's going on in here."
Enjoying himself, he nuzzled at her throat. "I believe they already suspect we have sex."
"Maybe, but that's different than having the bed yell out, 'Whoopee!'"
Was it any wonder he adored her? he thought.”
“This is what dying is like, he thinks. You do it alone. You are debased by it. You are exposed to your own weaknesses and to the harsh reality of what it means.”
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